


fleche

by mintables



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (brought 2 u by my 10 years of fencing. goodnight, (sobbing) FENCING AU COME GET UR FENCING AU, M/M, They're Yearning Your Honor......, absolutely ridiculous amounts of yearning, and pda. so much pda, oh this is like post-timeskip everyone btw. which i think is evident but, this is so self-indulgent! thanks, welcome to my blue lions epee team agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintables/pseuds/mintables
Summary: It's the first tournament of the season, but Dimitri's mind is anywhere but on fencing.It's not his fault Dedue is so distracting.





	fleche

**Author's Note:**

> (SPITS BLOOD) THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A NICE LIL 3K ONESHOT AND IT GOT SO BADLY AWAY FROM ME...... im so sorry. im too tired 2 proofread a thing. at any rate (blows kiss) this goes out to all the fucken... nelsies in the world. my truest ally... could never have finished this without ur soccer dimidues :')

“Dimitri, hurry up! We wanna get a good place to put our bags.”

He sighs softly, raking his hair back from his eyes. “Alright, I’m- I’m coming.”

It’s the first tournament of the season, and Dimitri couldn’t be more glad to be back in the usual routine with the rest of the Blue Lions epee team behind him. The summer had been… not a great one, but now… stepping into the crowded venue, the sound of boxes shrill in his ears, he feels a little more like a person, a little more  _ whole.  _

Annette had driven them both down to the tournament, which isn’t a far one- only about an hour and a half out from Garreg Mach Fencing Club. He’d been grateful for the offer, grateful for the company. He doesn't like to drive. He does not think his teammates  _ trust  _ him to, not after-

Well. A tournament is no time for thoughts of- of things he wishes he had never given in to.

He snaps himself back to the present as Annette, at his side, bumps his shoulder with hers. He realizes he’d stopped walking after they’d gotten through check-in, grip too tight around the handle of his bag. “Hey,” she says softly, and does not say more. She doesn’t need to.

He’s grateful that, even after all this time, she’s still practically a younger sister to him.

She spots something behind him then and brightens up, and he turns to see Mercedes waving at them both from across the room. She’s standing next to a few other blue bags, matching jackets strewn haphazardly across them. Next to her is-

A grin spreads across Dimitri’s face and he breaks into a little half-jog, outpacing Annette even in all her exuberance. Seeing Dedue again  _ always  _ makes him feel better. Since the practice season had begun again they have not had much time together, classes and workloads on top of nightly practices making it hard to find much more than a moment in the locker rooms or a stolen practice bout or two.

A moment for  _ what _ , Dimitri is still not wholly sure. He knows what he feels, has  _ always  _ felt, so much that it may as well be a part of him, but… though he has had moments he’s let himself believe it is reciprocated, Dedue has not made a move. It may just be wishful thinking on his part.

At any rate, it is wonderful to be here, now, at the start of a new tournament season together. The thought makes him happier, perhaps, than he deserves, but-

That cannot matter right now. What matters is focusing on the event.

“Dedue!” he says brightly, almost wanting to hug him and busying his hands setting his bag down and pulling out his equipment- mask, glove, four cords, check, check, check- instead. “Are you ready for today?”

Dedue inclines his head, smile soft and a little breathtaking. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose. And you, Dimitri?”

He allows himself a private smile at the way Dedue says his name- so sweet it’s a little intoxicating, and  _ god  _ does he love it. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” He pauses, gathering his equipment once more and standing. “Have you warmed up yet?”

Dedue shakes his head. “I haven’t, but if you want, I can take your things with me and you can warm up while I wait out the equipment check line.”

“Nonsense,” Dimitri says instantly, feeling privately happy that he’ll be able to get through even the beginning slog with Dedue. “We’ll go together.”

He hopes he doesn’t imagine the flush on Dedue’s cheeks as the two of them pick their way through the maze of bags strewn near the bleachers in the back of the venue and join the end of the painfully long equipment check line. Dimitri’s grateful he’s arrived at his customary hour and a half early- although usually only one hour is needed, he can never be too sure when an equipment check line will last forever.

Besides, it’s nice to spend time with his teammates at tournaments when none of them are fencing. Everyone always feels closer at events- it’s something about being in a place far from your club with people you care about, he thinks. It’s like they’re family.

The thought makes him feel warmer than he has in a while.

The line moves slowly, but Dedue’s presence at his side is more than effective distraction. They chat softly as they wait, Dedue smiling as he tells him about new flowers he’s gotten for his garden this week. Dimitri listens with interest- he may not trust himself gardening, afraid of damaging the plants he knows Dedue loves dearly, but he loves seeing him happy, loves seeing his face light up when he talks about the things he cares about.

Dimitri loves  _ him, _ and feels a little dizzy at the thought.

Finally,  _ finally _ he reaches the front of the line, and is more than a little relieved that none of his cords fail. One had been giving him trouble during practice, and he’d hoped it had only been due to a loose screw- it seems he’d been right, but he makes a note to not use it, just in case. By the time he’s gathered his equipment and all of it has passed, Dedue is waiting for him near the exit of the line, and he can’t help but let himself brush their arms together as they move to deposit everything back in their bags. Dedue doesn’t flinch at the contact.

“Is there anywhere to warm up…?” Dimitri asks, scanning the room, brow furrowed. Their event is not  _ terribly  _ late- they have an 11 am start time- but the strips are crowded, the 8 am saber events still running, clearly. He catches a glimpse of yellow jackets out of the corner of his eye and squints to see Raphael and Ignatz- both clearly already done fencing for the day- cheering at the side of a strip. He catches a flash of pink hair tucked beneath one fencer’s mask and figures it’s Hilda.

“I don’t think so,” Dedue responds softly. “Not in here, at least. But we should be able to find a place somewhere in the building- perhaps upstairs?”

Dimitri grins- this is one of his favorite parts of tournaments. When strips are overly crowded, it’s nice to find a spot separated from the rest of the event to warm up. There will usually be a corridor upstairs, no matter the building an event is located at, that serves that purpose well enough; getting away from the buzz of the strips before the start of an event is nice, if even for a moment.

“Let’s go.” He lets his hand brush Dedue’s for a moment before he catches himself and pulls away.  _ Stupid,  _ he chides himself.  _ Focus on the event. _

But the next instant Dedue’s hand is slipping into his own, and his world jolts to a halt for a second. “I- ah,” Dedue says softly, and Dimitri’s heart pounds in overtime at the flush on his cheeks, unmistakable this time. “There’s a staircase by check-in that looks promising? If you want to-”

“Yes! Sounds- sounds great,” Dimitri blurts, wincing at himself a moment later. He’s never been good at subtlety. But-

Dedue  _ is  _ holding his hand. That has to count for  _ something. _

They slip past check-in and up the stairs, finding themselves in a long corridor that’s entirely empty save for themselves-  _ perfect. _ Dimitri does not drop Dedue’s hand.

“So,” he says softly. He knows his face is red, knows he cannot possibly focus on fencing right now, but he couldn’t possibly care less.

“So,” Dedue echoes, gentle smile curling over his lips. God- he’s  _ radiant. _

“I should- ah- put my hair up-” Dimitri babbles, casting his gaze to the side. He feels mildly as though he’ll go blind if he looks at Dedue much longer.

“Oh- oh, yes. Of course,” Dedue says, soft, and drops his hand. Dimitri hopes he’s imagining the trace of hurt in his voice.

He fumbles to tug an elastic off his wrist and push his hair back from his face, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking.  _ Focus.  _ He tries his best to look unaffected as he ties up his ponytail, but only manages to make a mess of it and snap the elastic in two. He curses under his breath.  _ Stupid, stupid- _

“Allow me,” Dedue says gently, placing a hand over Dimitri’s where it’s still half-tangled in his own hair. The touch is grounding, like Dedue always is, and it takes Dimitri a moment to register what he’s actually said.

“I- I couldn’t ask you to-”

“It’s alright,” Dedue assures him, and then Dimitri’s frozen as Dedue’s hands, far gentler than his own could ever be, sweep through his hair. It’s all he can do to drop his own hands and stare up into Dedue’s face as he works, expression soft, gentle. He wonders vaguely if he’s dreaming, if maybe Annette had crashed her car on the way to the event and he’s dead right now and this is all some kind of purgatory.

Dedue’s hands linger as he pulls Dimitri’s hair back, touch gentle while his fingers work their way through the strands. Even after he ties it back, his hands remain, and Dimitri is all too aware of their warmth on either side of his face and  _ god,  _ their faces are so  _ close- _

This is it. This is  _ it,  _ god, the tournament couldn’t be farther from his mind when all he can see is Dedue, when the same uncertainty he feels is mirrored in Dedue’s eyes but there’s something  _ more  _ there, too, and he doesn’t dare  _ hope  _ but Dedue is leaning in-

“There you two are!” Mercedes’s voice shatters the stillness and Dimitri is jolting backwards in an instant, face burning. Dedue, for his part, manages to look composed, but he’s just as red. Mercedes raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt-”

Annette pushes past her with a grin. “We were looking everywhere! Don’t tell me you two were sneaking away to warm up without your dear ol’ teammates.” The glance she sends Dimitri’s way is enough for him to know that the car ride home will be torture- she’s not going to let him live this down.

“Aw, was Dimitri finally getting some?” Sylvain asks with a laugh as he joins the others in the hall, dragging Felix behind him. “Oh, hey, Dedue!”

Dedue nods a greeting, while Dimitri is certain his eye twitches. “Hello to you, too, Sylvain,” he grits out. “Felix. Did you two just get here?”

“Mmm,” Felix grunts in response. He’s clutching a cup of coffee like a lifeline in the hand that’s not occupied by Sylvain’s, and takes a swig from it before continuing. “Ashe just got here too, but he’s still in the equipment check line. Might be a bit.”

Dimitri nods, following Dedue in pulling off his jacket and setting it in a corner- there’s never any point in having too many layers on while they warm up. He studiously tries not to look at Dedue- or his  _ arms, god.  _ “And Ingrid?”

“She can’t make it today, remember?” Sylvain chimes in, pushing his bangs back with a clip. “Her ankle’s still screwed up from when that horse threw her last week.”

Oh- Dimitri had almost forgotten about that. He’s saved from the momentary guilt, though, by Felix striding past all of them and starting his warmup without saying anything further. Which is typical, really; out of all of them Felix is the one whose tournament day concentration rarely breaks. The exception is whenever Sylvain manages to get under his skin- it would almost be sweet if their public displays of affection (which Felix claims to hate) didn’t constantly remind Dimitri of his own relationship… struggle.

But right now, he has to push that from his thoughts- never mind that when he steals a glance at Dedue, he’s looking back with something indescribable in his eyes. Never mind that even as he pushes himself through the motions of his warm-up, all he can feel is Dedue’s hands in his hair. It’s fine. He has a tournament to fence- a tournament to  _ win. _

It’s  _ fine. _

Ashe joins them partway through their warm-up, and it’s a pleasant distraction, having nearly the whole team together like this. Dimitri allows himself to feel a little more confident- he always fences better when he knows the others are there with him. It’s reassuring, the reminder that they’re beside him, no matter how little he may deserve it.

_ Focus. Fencing. _

Right.

Dedue lingers as the others head back down the stairs after they’ve finished stretching, and catches Dimitri’s eye in what is clearly an invitation to wait as well. Heart in his throat and overly aware of the flush across his cheeks, Dimitri inches a little closer.

Dedue takes his hand again and Dimitri nearly squeaks, feeling himself turn scarlet with embarrassment. God-  _ how is he meant to fence like this? _

“Dimitri,” Dedue says softly. “Are you alright?”

“I-” Dimitri starts, ready to say yes, but he catches himself. There’s never any point in hiding things from Dedue. “I’m not entirely sure. But, if I may be honest…” He trails off, glancing away from Dedue’s eyes that see too  _ much,  _ that look into his  _ soul  _ and lay him bare- “...you make it. Ah. Better.”

Dedue makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and Dimitri dares to look back up. This time, he doesn’t- he  _ can’t  _ let himself identify the expression on his face. It’s too much of what he himself feels, too much of- of  _ everything. _

“Dimitri…” Dedue breathes, and before Dimitri can second-guess himself Dedue is bringing their joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss over Dimitri’s knuckles, as soft and gentle as everything Dedue does.

It’s over before he can even fully register what’s happening, but Dedue does not drop his hand, just smiles reassuringly at him. He swallows hard. “Dedue, I-”

“We can… discuss this later,” Dedue says, giving his hand one last squeeze before dropping it and picking up their jackets, handing Dimitri his. Dimitri instantly misses the contact. “Right now, though…” His grin is bittersweet. “Fencing.”

“Right. Fencing,” Dimitri echoes, feeling a little dazed. The darker whispers that seem to constantly take root in the back of his mind are silent- Dedue really does have that effect on him, he supposes.  _ God. _

He follows Dedue down the stairs without saying anything more, but he does not think he’d be capable of conversation right now if he tried. Not without saying far, far too much- at least, too much before a tournament. Too much if he wants any shot at being capable of fencing at all for the day.

Mercedes smiles knowingly at him as they make their way to where the others are already rooting through their bags, but doesn’t say anything, which he’s grateful for. Sylvain seems too occupied trying to get a good luck kiss from Felix to notice how much longer Dimitri and Dedue have taken; he’s grateful for that, too. His teasing would be insufferable.

“Ah- Dimitri,” Dedue says softly as they both reach their bags. He pulls a smaller bag out of his, offering it to Dimitri. “Have you eaten yet today?”

Dimitri blinks. He’d honestly forgotten- he doesn’t tend to each much on tournament days, even though he knows he  _ should.  _ All he’s had today has been coffee. “You… know me too well,” he concedes, taking the bag. Inside, there’s a breakfast sandwich, one Dedue has clearly cooked every part of himself. His chest feels altogether too tight. “Thank you. It smells delicious.”

He thinks if he says more his voice will break.  _ God.  _ He  _ loves _ him.

Dedue nods softly, and Dimitri feels a bit like he’s about to throw all reason to the wind and kiss him then and there until Annette-  _ thank god-  _ butts in with an overexaggerated pout. “Aw, Dedue, no treats for the rest of us?” she teases. She bumps Dimitri’s shoulder with her own, and the glance she throws him is all too knowing. He avoids her eyes.

“Perhaps later,” Dedue says, smiling. Dimitri wants to engrave the expression into his mind forever. He’s so distracted he almost misses his mouth as he tries to take a bite of the sandwich. “After pools.”

Annette lights up. “You’re the  _ best.” _

“Oh- I brought everyone granola bars!” Ashe chimes in, grinning. Annette’s head whips his way, and he pauses in zipping his jacket, flushing at the sudden attention. “I was trying a new recipe- I’m not sure if they’re all that great. You should probably wait until after pools for them, too, just in case…”

“I’m sure they’re alright!” Mercedes says. "I’d love to try them.” She’s finally managed to wrestle her hair into a ponytail, Dimitri notices- she’d been struggling with it being too short to do so for a while, ever since she’d chopped it off to spite her father. Ashe shrugs nervously.

“If you’re sure…”

Dimitri tunes out the others’ conversation as he tugs on his jacket, adjusting his cord in his sleeve just to have something to do with his hands. All he can look at is Dedue- at his easy smile, the way he gently ruffles Annette’s hair when she says something Dimitri doesn’t hear, how relaxed, how  _ natural  _ he looks laughing with the others. It makes something in his chest swell, hot with emotion, with pride to see Dedue allowing himself to have  _ fun  _ with the others. He’d always struggled to let himself accept the Blue Lions’ friendship. To see him here, now, like this… 

Dedue looks back at him again, open and content and  _ warm,  _ and Dimitri does not make any attempt to tear his gaze away. He  _ loves  _ him. He wants him to  _ know  _ it, wants to shout it from the rooftops, wants-

An arm slings over his shoulders and he nearly jumps out of his skin before he realizes it’s Sylvain, who has apparently managed to solicit his kiss from Felix and is now fully dressed. Dimitri drags his eyes away from Dedue, disgruntled. “Sylvain,  _ what.” _

“Hate to interrupt your moment,” Sylvain singsongs, and Dimitri is very aware that he is not sorry at all. “But we  _ do  _ actually have to fence today, so c’mon- let’s do a warmup bout.”

Dimitri dislodges Sylvain’s arm from his shoulder. “Can’t you go fence your boyfriend?”

“He doesn’t wanna fence me,” Sylvain pouts. “Something about me ‘being a terrible warmup partner’ and ‘not taking our bouts seriously’ and  _ ‘you can’t make innuendos on the strip, Sylvain. _ ’” He makes air quotes as he speaks, voice dragging into a terrible impression of Felix’s.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Felix announces from where he’s meticulously adjusting a screw in the tip of his epee.

“Love you too!” Sylvain calls, waving merrily. He turns back to Dimitri, expression growing serious- or as serious as Sylvain lets himself get in public, anyways. “Also, I can’t let you go fence  _ your  _ boyfriend, because the two of you are gonna go to shake hands and just  _ stand there. _ Holding hands. Just, y’know,” he gestures vaguely.  _ “Yearning.” _

“I- what-” Dimitri splutters. “We’re not-”

Sylvain stares at him flatly, and he lets his protests die on the tip of his tongue. “Fine. Let’s just-” he grabs his epee a bit violently, glancing one last time at Dedue even though he knows Sylvain will call him out on it- “Let’s just go fence.”

Sylvain grins and follows him towards the strips. “You’ve got it bad,” he informs him. Dimitri ignores him.

“Look- there’s a strip we can fence on over there,” he says, pointing. Sylvain rolls his eyes as they start to head over.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Dimitri. You gotta go out there and  _ do  _ something about this. Just look at me and Felix!”

Dimitri furrows his brow as he shoos Sylvain towards the other end of the strip to get hooked up. “I would much rather  _ not  _ follow you and Felix’s example, thank you. And I think you’ll find I  _ can  _ ignore you forever.”

“Fine, fine.” Sylvain offers him his bell guard, and Dimitri tests it perhaps a bit more aggressively than necessary. “ _ Yearn.  _ See if I care.”

Dimitri hums noncommittally, biting back a smile as they salute and pull their masks on. Sylvain has been right about one thing- it’s probably better that he isn’t fencing Dedue right now. It’s easier to let himself focus on actually  _ fencing,  _ on getting into the tournament mindset, than it would be were he… distracted.

Fencing Sylvain is always frustrating, but it  _ does  _ make for a good warmup- he has a long reach, and he makes use of it in the most annoying ways he possibly can. Dimitri’s usual overtly offensive style is always rather fruitless against him; he has to adapt to Sylvain’s constant hand picks and toe touches and any other ridiculous move that  _ shouldn’t  _ work in serious competition but, because it’s Sylvain,  _ does.  _ Still, he knows he outmatches him in strength, and with a few crushing parrys he turns the bout around.

Sometime during his bout with Sylvain, Felix had wandered over, and once they finish Sylvain doesn’t even bother to unhook before he bounds over to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Felix makes a disgusted noise and shoves his chest- but too lightly to actually do anything, Dimitri notes.

“Baby, fence me,” Sylvain begs, pouting dramatically. Felix  _ does  _ shove him away this time.

“Call me that again and I  _ swear- _ ”

Dimitri chuckles under his breath and unhooks, handing the reel off to Felix before he can think of a proper threat.  _ “You,”  _ Felix begins, but Dimitri waves him off, turning to scan the room.

“I’m going to go fence Dedue,” he says, already walking away. Felix makes a disgruntled noise, but from Sylvain’s little cheer it’s apparent he’s given in and is hooking up to the strip.

He tends to give in easily when Sylvain is involved.

The strips are still occupied by a few saber fencers- he thinks the finals for both events should be soon, and he spots Claude and Hilda next to the considerably nicer-looking finals strip on the far side of the room, both with their gear still on. He’ll have to find out how it goes for them later.

There’s a cluster of women’s epee fencers in one corner, and he spots Mercedes and Annette waiting by the side of a strip, Annette fiddling with her ponytail while the two chat. Still, he doesn’t see Dedue anywhere.

“Dimitri!” Ashe’s voice chirps, and he jolts a little, swiveling to his right to face him. He hadn’t even heard him approach- somehow, he always manages to be distracted by Dedue.

He doesn’t mind.

“Ah- Ashe! Have you seen Dedue?”

Ashe furrows his brow. “The last I saw him, he was doing a warm-up bout with Mercedes, I think? I lost track of him after that, though.”

Dimitri hums acknowledgement. “I see. I suppose I’ll find him later.” He tries to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Would you like to fence?”

Ashe grins. “Absolutely.” 

They manage to find an empty strip, and Dimitri forces thoughts of Dedue from his mind so he can turn his attention to the bout. What Sylvain had said earlier won’t leave him alone, though- that he’s…  _ yearning. _

_ Is _ he yearning? Maybe he is.

But that can’t matter now. The event should start soon- he has to focus.

Felix demands to fence him after that, and by the time they’re done with their warm-up bout a voice over the loudspeaker is announcing that pool and strip assignments for both the epee events have been posted, and he still hasn’t found Dedue. He sighs as he heads back to his bag to grab his backup equipment- there’s a crowd around the monitor, but he’d pulled the live results up on his phone that morning. He can just check there.

A warm hand lands on his shoulder, and he’d jump if the touch weren’t so instantly recognizable. His previous mood dissipates instantly, and he turns with a smile. “Dedue!”

Dedue returns the smile, handing Dimitri both the bag he keeps his backup equipment in and his water bottle. Dimitri’s chest constricts again. He’s so  _ good _ to him, all the time. “You didn’t have to-”

“It’s alright. I’m glad to,” Dedue says softly, and there’s so  _ much  _ behind the words Dimitri is floored for a second. “You’re on strip C3. I’m on D4.”

“A-ah. Thank you,” he breathes, trying not to feel too disappointed that he won’t be closer to Dedue while they’re fencing pools.  _ God, Sylvain  _ is  _ right. _ “Good luck today.”

Dedue swallows, and Dimitri’s suddenly all too aware of how close together they’re standing. If he just leaned up a little, he could close the distance.

Dedue’s eyes sweep the room, before returning to his face, and- no, he’s looking a little lower than his eyes, almost like-

“Good luck, hmm?” he breathes, and his voice is low, hushed. Dimitri wets his lips, acutely aware of Dedue’s eyes tracking the movement. God- they need to get to their strips-

Dedue leans in and Dimitri’s world slows to a crawl. His eyes flutter closed, lips parting-

And Dedue kisses his cheek, quick and feather-light.

Dimitri can’t help the disappointed noise he makes, and Dedue laughs softly, still a breath from his skin. “For good luck,” he murmurs, and pulls away completely. “See you after pools.”

He turns and heads for his strip, leaving Dimitri frozen and a little lightheaded. When had Dedue gotten so- so-

He sighs and moves towards his own strip, trying his best to clear his mind. There’s a buzzing in his chest that he doesn’t think he can shake any time soon, but… it’s far from a bad thing.

He  _ does  _ feel lucky. He hopes Dedue, across the room and so, so dazzling, does too.

Pools pass by in a haze. He’s so distracted he nearly loses his first bout, but catches himself in time to turn it around- it’s not a very tough competition, being the first of the year. He shouldn’t exactly be struggling, but… he keeps catching glimpses of Dedue when he’s up to fence on his strip, and he thinks he’s beginning to lose his mind. 

At the very least, he does manage to sweep his pool- when it comes down to it, he knows his fleche is nigh-unbeatable. The only one he’s met with a parry strong enough to withstand it… is Dedue.

He very nearly buries his face in his hands mid-bout.

He gets through it, though, and is glad that by the time he wraps up his bouts and is signing the score sheet, Dedue’s pool seems to still be going on. He’ll be able to have a moment at the side of his strip to cheer him on, then.

Dedue’s about to get hooked up by the time Dimitri has gathered his things and made his way over, and the way his face lights up when Dimitri catches his eye and waves-

God.  _ God. _

It’s dizzying.

It’s an easy bout- Dedue’s opponent rushes in much too quickly each touch, a terrible idea against Dedue’s crushing defense. It’s over in only a little over a minute, and then Dedue is turning to him as he takes his mask off and sending him a quick, private smile, one that says so, so much- just for him.

He needs the event to be over  _ now. _

Dimitri offers Dedue his water bottle once he unhooks and makes his way over to him, eyes warm. “You were fantastic,” he says softly, eyes tracking the movement of Dedue’s throat as he drinks. A drop of water trails down the line of his jaw. Dimitri can’t stop looking at it.

He doesn’t bother second-guessing himself before he leans in to kiss it away.

Dedue jumps a little at the touch, and when Dimitri pulls away he’s pleased to see he’s flushed scarlet, pupils blown wide. “Dimitri…” he breathes softly, and he sounds a little overwhelmed, and Dimitri wants nothing more than to kiss him again, over and over and drink in every little noise he makes, every last murmur of his name, wants to give Dedue everything he has to offer-

But whatever dance they’ve wound up in, he’s not going to break it just yet, even if fencing is the furthest thing from his mind right now.

“How many bouts do you have left?” he asks softly, placing his hand over Dedue’s where he’s still holding his water bottle. For a moment, still feeling a little bold, he considers bringing it to his own lips, considers how Dedue would react to the indirect kiss- but then what he’s doing catches up to him and he almost freezes up completely.

God- he’s never done anything like this before. He’s beginning to think he might be terrible at it.

Dedue shifts his water bottle to his other hand and turns the one Dimitri’s holding over, interlacing their fingers. It’s enough to quiet his doubts. “Just one more,” he replies, voice low. “I’m on deck, if you want to stay and watch.” There’s a shyer note to his voice- as if Dimitri could possibly say no. For a moment, Dimitri can pretend it’s just the two of them there, and he wants to kiss him  _ so  _ badly.

But he settles for kissing his hand instead, pressing a smile to the palm. “Of course. Good luck out there.”

Dedue’s next bout is a little closer than the one before, but he still wins with ease, and Dimitri’s slinging his bag over his shoulder alongside his own before Dedue finishes signing the score sheet. A little emboldened, he picks up Dedue’s water bottle as well, maintaining eye contact as he takes a long swig from it.

Dedue’s whole face goes delightfully red, and when Dimitri offers him his hand he grips it like a lifeline.  _ “Dimitri,”  _ he says softly. Dimitri smiles, and Dedue, sighing, can’t help but return it.

“Yes, Dedue?” he replies, just as soft as they start to work their way back to where they’ve laid their bags. “You were incredible out there, by the way.” He glances up, makes sure Dedue can see how sincere he is. “You always are.”

Dedue shakes his head. “We still have to make it through the whole tableau. I wouldn’t call anything ‘incredible’ yet.”

“But I  _ am.  _ You  _ are  _ incredible, Dedue,” Dimitri says, frowning. He almost wishes they didn’t have the entire direct elimination round to work through, still. He wants, so badly, to show Dedue just how much he  _ is  _ incredible. But… they do have a little time. The other pools are still going on. Making up his mind, he lays their equipment bags down on top of their fencing bags and tugs Dedue behind the bleachers- god, like they’re teenagers at a high school dance.

“Dimitri…?” Dedue inquires. It’s not wholly a question. They both already know what they’re doing here, in this dark space separated from the rest of the venue for a few stolen moments.

“Dedue,” he responds, steady and even for once. He leans closer; Dedue does not move away. “I know… I know now, at this tournament, is. Not the best time, exactly.” He laughs under his breath a little, and Dedue hums patiently, indulgently. Dimitri’s struck, almost painfully, by how well Dedue  _ knows  _ him, how comfortable he feels even now, telling him something they both already know. “But, I- you-”

Dedue loops a hand around his waist, tugging him closer, and Dimitri leans into Dedue’s welcome warmth regardless of the fact that in full fencing gear, despite the chill fall air, he’s already overly warm. “You don’t have to say it now,” Dedue says softly. “I think we’ve waited for… a very long time, as it is.”

“Can I kiss you?” Dimitri blurts, wincing a second later at his own lack of tact. “I- I mean. I would- if you want to- I would very much like to-”

“Dimitri… I would like nothing more,” Dedue breathes, the soft smile Dimitri wants to engrave on his heart playing over his lips.

Before either of them can lean in, though, Dedue freezes, tugging Dimitri closer and back into the shadows. Dimitri realizes why a second later, when on the opposite side of their section of the bleachers a distraught-looking Lorenz strides in, followed by Claude a few paces behind.

“Lorenz, hey, breathe-” Claude’s saying, and Dimitri’s abruptly certain that they should absolutely not be seeing this.

Still, they’re both trapped, now- if they move to leave, they’ll surely be seen, and the last thing Dimitri wants is to interrupt whatever’s happening. He doubts it’s a good time to kiss Dedue, anymore, but… being pressed against him like this is nice, sending a selfish little thrill through him that he can’t help but enjoy the warmth of. Being with Dedue in any capacity… makes him feel better, warmer,  _ happier _ than he ever does alone.

Lorenz, meanwhile has whirled on Claude, fingers tugging at his hair until it starts to unravel from the bun it’s swept into, and Claude looks more concerned than anything else. They’re both in sweats, now- the saber events must have ended. 

Dimitri doesn’t dare move. Claude sees  _ everything. _

“It’s easy for you to say to  _ breathe,”  _ Lorenz says hotly, sounding very much like he’s valiantly trying not to cry and about to fail. “You don’t understand- my father- when I come home having failed, he’ll-”

_ “Fuck  _ your father,” Claude says with a fierceness that’s almost startling. “If it’s a medal he wants from you-” he reaches around his own neck, and hands Lorenz something that glints gold in the light that’s filtering in from between the bleachers- “then give him a medal.”

Lorenz stares at Claude for a second, and  _ oh _ , Dimitri thinks, they should  _ not  _ be seeing this. “I… can’t possibly accept this,” he breathes. Claude doesn’t blink.

“At the end of the day, it’s just a piece of metal, Lorenz. I’d rather give you this to get your father off your back than keep it, what, to look at sometimes?” He scoffs, and when Lorenz doesn’t move he reaches forward and drapes the medal around Lorenz’s neck himself. “There.”

He doesn’t remove his hands.

Lorenz makes a wet sound and surges forward, and  _ god they shouldn’t be seeing this,  _ and Dimitri looks away but he can hear Claude’s muffled  _ “Mmph,”  _ and- well, it’s as good of a distraction for him as any, he supposes.

He tugs at Dedue’s wrist, and they manage to make their escape, stumbling and shocked. They don’t drop each other’s hands once they’re in the clear, but- the chance is gone, and probably what little time they’d had in the first place before the tableau gets posted.

“Did we… really just witness that?” Dimitri asks softly as they return to their bags. Dedue furrows his brow.

“I would prefer not to think about it ever again,” he responds, just as soft. Dimitri laughs, a little stunned, still, but… now that they’re out here, it’s actually hitting him, and he’s buzzing with warmth, with promise.

After this tournament, he’s going to kiss Dedue, as many times as he likes. And he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. He feels a little giddy, a little invincible, and entirely, completely  _ happy. _

He tightens his grip on Dedue’s hand and leans further into his side, even as Sylvain, who looks like he’s just finished with his pool, bounds over and immediately notices their joined hands. He gapes for a second, glancing between them wildly, and Dimitri allows a self-satisfied grin to spread over his face.  _ Yearning,  _ indeed.

“You really-” Sylvain begins, but slams his mouth shut again as the rest of the Blue Lions filter over. Dimitri makes no effort to drop Dedue’s hand, and Dedue doesn’t pull away either, instead laughing under his breath and bringing their hands to his lips for a moment. Dimitri can’t help the flush that spreads over his cheeks, can’t help but be glad about it, even as he distantly registers Annette gasping with delight and Mercedes sighing happily.

“Oh, I’m so glad you two have worked things out by now,” Mercedes says, looking genuinely delighted. “It makes what I was going to ask a lot easier.”

“Ask…?” Dimitri says slowly, furrowing his brow. Mercedes laughs.

“Oh, nothing bad! It’s just- Dedue, you know how you drove me up here?”

Dedue nods slowly. “Am I to assume you wish to drive back with Annette?”

Mercedes smiles. “If you don’t mind. Annie and I were talking during pools, and we both figured, well, you could use the time.”

“That sounds  _ wonderful, _ ” Dimitri blurts, then pauses, wonders vaguely if his brain is going to catch up with his mouth at all today. “I- yeah. Ah. Thank you, you two.” Dedue murmurs his assent as well with a grin.

“Now that that’s settled,” Annette grins. “Dedue. You said you had treats for after pools? You too, Ashe.” Ashe looks up from the notebook he’s furiously scribbling into at the moment, looking like a deer in headlights.

Dedue laughs, and it’s a sound Dimitri could listen to forever without once growing tired of it. “I did say that, didn’t I?” He looks like he’s glowing. Dimitri  _ feels  _ like he’s glowing.

Ashe seems to notice their joined hands for the first time, dropping his notebook with an “Oh!” before scrambling to dig the granola bars he’d mentioned earlier out of his bag and offer one to Annette. Dedue reaches into his own bag, as well, pulling out a tin.

“Muffins,” he explains to Annette’s delighted gasp. He opens the lid and she practically pounces on one.

“You’re the  _ best,  _ Dedue!” She nearly bites into the wrapper, Dimitri notes, laughing under his breath and leaning his head on Dedue’s shoulder. Dedue, for his part, shifts a little awkwardly at the praise.

“I am glad you enjoy them,” he says softly, and Dimitri’s heart  _ aches  _ with how much he loves him.

He settles for pressing a kiss against the shoulder he’s leaning on, even covered by a jacket as it is. Dedue smiles and leans further into him, and for a moment Dimitri can forget that they’re at a tournament, can forget the usual pre-direct elimination nerves, and wants so, so badly to kiss him.

Then the loudspeaker crackles on and a voice announces that the direct elimination tableau for both the men’s and women’s epee events had been posted, and he sighs, dragging himself back to reality.

Dedue pulls out his phone and angles it so Dimitri can see as well, refreshing the live results and clicking on the newly-appeared tableau. The others around them are doing the same- he hears Sylvain cheer at the same time Felix lets out a frustrated groan.

“Aw, Felix, this is gonna be so much fun!” Sylvain grins, draping an arm over his shoulders. Felix hisses like an angry cat.

“God,  _ why me?” _

“Are you two fencing?” Ashe asks with a laugh. Sylvain nods and grins while Felix sighs.

“Unfortunately.”

Dedue pauses scrolling through the tableau, and Dimitri glances over to see his own bout- he’s got a bye, but after that he’s up against someone from another club whose name he doesn’t recognize. That’s fine; he almost prefers going into fifteen-touch bouts blind. There’s more pressure when he’s up against someone he knows how to fence.

“Thank you, Dedue,” he murmurs, smiling softly. “Have you seen who you’re fencing?”

Dedue nods. “It won’t be an easy bout, but-”

“You’ll do fantastic,” Dimitri says fiercely. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Dedue looks startled for a moment, but smiles so, so fondly, and  _ god,  _ Dimitri wants to kiss him. He has to look away, has to grab his weapon bag just to do  _ something.  _ He can’t wait for the event to be over.

“Thank you, Dimitri,” Dedue breathes. Dimitri laces their fingers together, a little dizzy.

“I- we should. Get to our strips,” he murmurs, and Dedue nods, still smiling, and lets Dimitri lead the way.

Dedue’s bout is in the D pod again, while Dimitri’s is in the C; he hates that they’ll have to part so soon, but he’s still so  _ warm,  _ so nearly  _ giddy  _ he thinks just  _ looking  _ at Dedue can carry him through the rest of the day.

But he gets to do  _ more  _ than look, and that fact alone is  _ so…  _

He pauses before he and Dedue have to part ways, tugging him closer. Dedue makes a questioning noise.

“Dedue. Ah,” Dimitri breathes, before deciding  _ fuck it  _ and pulling him down, leaning up so their faces are a breath apart. He doesn’t give himself time to think, screwing his eyes shut and leaning in to kiss Dedue, quick and chaste.

He misses, pretty badly, bumping their noses together and kissing the side of Dedue’s mouth instead, but Dedue looks no less flushed when he pulls back, green eyes so, so wide.

“For good luck,” Dimitri explains hastily, and pulls back before Dedue can even react. He nearly stumbles as he walks towards his strip, not daring to look back and see the expression on Dedue’s face, but he doesn’t  _ care.  _ He feels invincible.

The direct elimination round is a complete slog. Dimitri wins his first bout without issue- he doesn’t even have to break out his fleche, his opponent rushing in at every false opening and allowing him to win within the first period solely with stop touches. The second bout is longer, his opponent playing a waiting game to try to draw out his attack, and it frustrates Dimitri to no end. Still, he wins this one by a large margin as well, and is given a moment’s rest- he’s the first to make it into the table of eight, and his next opponent’s bout hasn’t even ended yet.

He takes the time to figure out where his teammates have ended up. Ashe had gotten out in the table of sixteen, and he spots him cheering by the side of a strip it looks as though Mercedes is fencing on. Annette joins him in a moment, accompanied by an annoyed-looking Felix; they’re both undressed, he notes as he heads over. Sylvain must have won their bout.

“How’d you guys end up doing?” Dimitri asks once Mercedes’s bout goes on break. It’s probably going into the third period, he notes; Mercedes is up with a 12-8 lead and the other girl looks furious about it. 

Annette shrugs. “Not  _ terrible-  _ I got out in the eights. Mercie’s fencing to get into the final right now. Are you still in?”

He nods. “Just hit the eights- I’ve got a little time until my next bout. Are Sylvain and Dedue still in, too?”

Ashe shakes his head. “Sylvain just got out. He’s getting undressed right now. Dedue’s still in, though, I think. We were going to go find him after Mercedes finishes her bout.”

“I’ll go figure out where he is,” Dimitri offers a little too quickly. Felix huffs a dry laugh.

“Of course you will.”

Annette hushes him as Dimitri turns, offering Mercedes a wave and a thumbs-up which she returns with a laugh before moving to test her opponent’s guard and start the final period. She’ll do just fine, he’s sure.

He scans the room, grinning as his eyes alight on Dedue about to hook up a few strips over. He breaks into a little half-jog, waving, and Dedue’s smile when he sees him approach could move  _ mountains.  _ God, Dimitri  _ loves  _ him.

The first period of Dedue’s bout is painfully close, and he watches with his heart in his throat. The other Blue Lions come up behind him, but he doesn’t bother acknowledging their presence- all he can see is Dedue.

When they hit the first one-minute break, the score’s 7-7 and Dimitri’s rushing to hand Dedue his water bottle before he even makes it to the end of the strip. He’d done his best to catalogue all of Dedue’s opponent’s openings; he’s  _ going  _ to make sure he wins this.

“His hand,” Dimitri rushes, clasping Dedue’s hand while he takes a swig of water. “When you draw his attack out, there’s a moment he lets his bell guard drift in- you should be able to close it out in six.”

Dedue nods. “The problem is his hand picks. He keeps getting under my guard-”

“Keep him at a distance,” he suggests, glancing at the time. They don’t have much. “I think you can rile him up enough to make him attack from out of distance- that’s your shot.”

Dedue nods. “Understood.” He turns to head back, handing off his water bottle, but pauses for a moment, turns to him again. “…Thank you, Dimitri.”

He presses his lips to his forehead, quick and gentle, then heads back to the en garde line, leaving Dimitri’s heart pounding into overtime. He’s never felt quite so off-kilter at a tournament before, but god- he likes it, maybe too much.

Sylvain elbows him as he retreats from the strip, but doesn’t say anything more, which Dimitri is grateful for. All his focus goes instantly back to Dedue, and his heart swells with pride as Dedue, clearly following his advice, crushes his opponent out for the next few touches. The further he pulls ahead, the more frustrated his opponent seems to get, rushing directly into Dedue’s setups- something Dimitri had hoped for.

Dedue wins the bout easily after that, and flashes him a smile as he goes to sign off on the slip, one that makes Dimitri feel too warm. God. What Dedue does to him… it’s indescribable.

He smiles back.

He grabs Dedue’s hand the minute he’s close enough, grinning. Their teammates are saying something behind him- congratulations, probably- but he doesn’t even hear them, doesn’t see them.

All he sees is Dedue.

He’s about to lean in, to kiss him  _ somewhere  _ because he’s  _ sick  _ of waiting, when Annette shoves his shoulder. “Dimitri, they’re calling you over on C5,” she hisses. He blinks. Oh. Yeah. He still has another two bouts before he makes the final. Dedue does, too, but-

They’re  _ going  _ to be the ones in the final. Dimitri won’t have it any other way.

“Dedue,” he calls, tugging his bag over his shoulder and starting over to where his next opponent is waiting. “I’ll see you on the finals strip.”

Dedue smiles. “Of course.”

Dimitri’s next two bouts are both annoyingly long. The first, he keeps getting caught up in infighting, and only gets lucky enough to win with brute strength, crushing his opponent into close-outs that shouldn’t work and only  _ do  _ because he outmatches him physically. The next bout is to get him into the final, but he  _ can’t  _ get his opponent to move forward, and they’re honestly lucky they don’t get non-combativity called. As it is, he only manages to win it 8-6 in the third period, and it’s infuriating. 

Even more infuriating, really, is that he can feel his momentum starting to fade- he probably should have eaten something after pools, but he’d been so  _ distracted _ . His swiftly-onsetting exhaustion is a painful reminder, though, that he’s not quite the fencer he’d been five years ago, when he could fence whole weekends on only cups of coffee.

He’d paid the price for that long ago.

But that doesn’t matter,  _ none  _ of that matters, because he turns after the bout is won and Dedue is waiting for him, smile warm and welcoming and it doesn’t matter  _ where  _ they are because Dimitri is  _ home. _

He almost forgets to sign the slip the referee is attempting to offer him, mumbling a hasty apology as he scribbles his signature with shaky hands and fumbles to unhook as quickly as he can. “How did your last bout go?” he asks, smile wide. 

He feels like he’s always smiling around Dedue.

Dedue reaches out and brushes Dimitri’s hair back from his face where it’s starting to fall out of his ponytail. He doesn’t pull his hand back, and Dimitri leans into the touch. “I won,” he says softly, and Dimitri’s smile grows wider.

“So it’s down to me and you?”

Dedue nods. “Isn’t it always?”

He’s not talking about fencing.

Dimitri turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of Dedue’s palm. “Always.”

He’s not talking about fencing, either.

Dimitri is surprisingly calm as he hooks up onto the finals strip- usually, by now, nerves would be eating at him, and he’s only able to quiet his mind for so long. But this isn’t an average tournament by any means, and Dedue- Dedue isn’t his usual opponent, either.

They’re largely evenly matched in terms of strength, although Dimitri is quicker and Dedue has a better defense; it makes bouts between them  _ fun,  _ makes Dimitri feel  _ alive  _ whenever he’s on the strip with Dedue opposite him.

Now, as he watches Dedue while the referee tests his weapon, his mind, for once, is quiet. No matter what the result of the day is- and it’s only the first tournament of the season, it hardly matters- they’re both going to walk out of here with medals.

They’re going to walk out of here, and Dimitri will kiss him like they’re the only two people in the world, with all nine years he’s waited for this behind it, with all they’ve been building towards not just  _ today  _ but _ all their lives- _

The referee gestures for them to test each other’s bell guards, and Dimitri offers his first, not breaking eye contact with Dedue. “Good luck,” he mouths.

Dedue’s eyes sparkle. “To you as well,” he returns.

They retreat to their en garde lines, neither moving to look away until they have to pull their masks on. Exhaustion is, suddenly, the last thing he can think about. The referee raises his hands, starts the bout, and Dimitri feels alive.

Neither he nor Dedue hold anything back. They haven’t gotten a chance to fence seriously like this in so long- it’s thrilling, exhilarating. He can’t help the smile that spreads over his face as his blade gets caught on Dedue’s guard and it devolves into infighting- they know each other so well, neither can gain the upper hand. They move nearly in sync; he  _ knows  _ how Dedue will parry him just as Dedue knows where Dimitri will attack next, and it winds up being a double touch.

The bout, for the most part, proceeds just like that- for each touch one of them gets, the other matches it. It’s almost a dance, back and forth in equal measure; he’s almost distracted just by how easily they are able to read each other.

Almost.

The bout reaches 14-14 far too quickly, before Dimitri even manages to catch up with how swiftly it is going. He’s been fencing half in a haze, focused wholly on Dedue, on matching him in all that he does; as the referee calls for them to salute _la belle _he vaguely makes out the cheers of the other Blue Lions by the side of the strip, both for him and Dedue. He smiles to himself.

The referee calls out  _ “Fence!”  _ and Dimitri pulls back- Dedue’s been sticking on the defensive the whole bout. For this last touch, he’s not going to push his luck trying to attack. Dedue follows him, and they exchange feints, neither willing to commit to an attack even as the distance closes-

And then Dedue moves faster than Dimitri had been prepared for, faster than he’s been expecting, and his blade is knocked aside as Dedue’s fleche hits him square in the chest.

Dedue’s  _ fleche. _

The fleche that’s been Dimitri’s signature for years now, ever since he’d figured out  _ how, _ the fleche that he’s never seen Dedue even  _ practice- _

The fleche that’s just won Dedue  _ gold- _

Dimitri thinks for a moment he might cry. His chest feels so, so tight, and he’s so, so warm, he just- he just loves him  _ so much- _

He’s pulling his mask off before the referee’s even finished calling the bout over. He’s not sure what his expression looks like right now, not sure he cares. He rushes through a salute, nearly tripping over himself to shake Dedue’s hand.

“You- you fleched,” he breathes. Dedue smiles, squeezing his hand quickly before dropping it and moving to unhook.

“I did.”

And it’s clear he knows  _ exactly  _ what he did, and oh, Dimitri can’t move to unhook and sign off on the slip fast enough. They have a good margin of time before the awards ceremony, and  _ god,  _ he can’t wait any longer- the minute he and Dedue have both gathered their things, he’s rushing to grab him by the wrist and pull him back towards their bags, towards the bleachers-

Annette slings an arm over his shoulder at the same time Mercedes- still in gear, and it looks like she’s about to fence her final next- pulls Dedue into a hug. “You  _ guys!” _ she chirps, grinning. “I’m so proud.”

“Oh- thank you, Annette,” Dimitri manages, trying not to let himself sound impatient. He’s done with fencing and he doesn’t want to wait any longer, but… he is still captain. He has a duty to his teammates.

Ashe, saint that he is, comes to the rescue. “You guys better hurry and get your stuff off. Mercedes is fencing the final soon!” he says, shooing them. He shoots Dimitri a glance that’s a little too knowing, and he returns it gratefully.

Mercedes laughs softly as she disentangles herself from Dedue. “You two can take your time, if you want. I’ll be alright.”

She whispers something into Dedue’s ear, and he laughs under his breath before she shoos him off as well. Dimitri offers him his hand, and he laces their fingers together while they make their way back to the bags.

“What did Mercedes say?” he asks, letting his shoulder brush Dedue’s as they walk. Dedue smiles, soft and warm and  _ beautiful,  _ and Dimitri almost doesn’t hear his response.

“That if I don’t hurry up and kiss you, she  _ ‘swears to god-’” _

Dimitri’s grateful they’ve reached their bags, because the next minute he’s dropping everything and he doesn’t even register the dull  _ thunk  _ as his mask hits the ground and Dedue’s so- he’s  _ so- _

He’s winding his arms around Dedue’s neck, and Dedue’s mask hits the ground too and his hands find Dimitri’s waist-

And finally,  _ finally  _ he’s kissing him, and they’re both sweaty and their gear is getting in the way and Dimitri ends up stumbling over his own bag so their teeth click together but it’s  _ perfect _ . Dedue’s  _ perfect. _

“I- you- we should.” Dimitri pulls back, trying to form coherent thoughts. God,  _ Dedue.  _ “We should get our stuff off- before Mercedes fences-”

“Mmm,” Dedue hums, making no move to do so. “We should.”

And Dimitri can’t help but kiss him again, and one kiss turns into many, and he’s smiling so wide it hurts when he finally manages to drag himself away. 

“Alright. We really do have to go support Mercedes,” Dedue murmurs, ducking in to kiss the corner of Dimitri’s mouth quickly before he pulls back entirely. Dimitri hums an agreement, hands barely managing to unzip his jacket. He’s trembling, he realizes; half with exhaustion and half with overwhelming  _ emotion,  _ so  _ much  _ of it welling inside him, he’s just-

He’s just  _ so  _ happy.

He can’t take his gear off fast enough, shoving it haphazardly into his bag and only barely managing to zip it shut and tug on his team jacket and sweatpants before he’s spinning back around to Dedue. Dedue, busy meticulously wrapping his cords up to place in his neatly-arranged bag, laughs, and Dimitri would do  _ anything  _ to hear that sound again.

“I love you,” he blurts, freezing a moment later as he realizes what, exactly, he’s just said. He’d… wanted to do that with better timing. He doesn’t regret it, though- not for a moment, not when Dedue flushes so beautifully and his whole face goes soft,  _ fond,  _ and- god.

“Dimitri…” And his voice is so, so gentle, and Dimitri takes his hand again because he  _ can.  _ “I love you, too. Always.”

Dimitri leans in to kiss him, quick and light. “Why didn’t we do this  _ years  _ ago?”

Dedue laughs. “It does not appear that either of us has very good timing for these matters, does it?”

Dimitri shakes his head and kisses him again, more a bump of their faces together than anything else because he  _ can’t stop smiling.  _ “Mmm. We don’t.”

They make their way back over to the finals strip, where Mercedes is only just getting hooked up. Sylvain whistles when they join the rest of the team, laughing as he has to dodge Felix’s punch at his shoulder. “Having fun, you two?”

Dimitri smiles softly. “Absolutely.”

Sylvain raises his eyebrows and grins, and Dimitri’s known him long enough to know that, even if he’s trying to look teasing, it’s genuine. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

Dedue loops an arm around Dimitri’s waist, so casual and familiar that Dimitri’s whole chest  _ aches.  _ “Thank you, Sylvain.”

He wants to kiss him again then and there.

Their attention is drawn away as Mercedes’s bout begins, and with everyone’s gazes on the strip Dimitri is content to lean further against Dedue’s side. Smiling, he takes his other hand and laces their fingers together, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss over each knuckle. On the strip, Mercedes scores a touch, and as the others cheer he leans up to kiss the same spot on Dedue’s jaw he’d kissed earlier, relishing in the tiny sigh he lets out, just for him.

There’s a burning need, now, for him to be as close to Dedue as possible- he  _ wants,  _ so badly, to stay this close,  _ closer,  _ and never let go. More than that, he wants to kiss him, enough to make up for all the years they have missed and more, enough that he can map every inch of Dedue’s body, countless times over. Now that he’s  _ started,  _ he doesn’t think he can stop kissing him, doesn’t know how. He’s not entirely sure how he’s been managing all this time without it.

Mercedes scores another touch, and Dimitri joins the rest of the Blue Lions in cheering. One of his favorite things about tournaments, really, is how hard the whole team will rally around one single person- it’s a reminder that, no matter what, they’re family. He sighs contentedly.

Mercedes’s bout drags on, but it’s far from boring; Dedue’s hands find their way to his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail it’s half-fallen out of and braiding it back. The touch, like everything Dedue does, is so  _ gentle,  _ and Dimitri melts into it. Dedue’s hands send warmth through his whole body, and he feels mildly as though he must be glowing because he’s never felt this  _ light  _ in his life.

Dedue finishes with his hair around the time Mercedes wins, and Dimitri turns, tugs him into a kiss just because he  _ can,  _ now. He ignores Sylvain’s long whistle behind them, laughing against Dedue’s lips as he pulls back a little. “Love you,” he grins. Dedue kisses him again, quick and light.

“Oh, thank god,” Mercedes sighs happily as she joins the rest of the group. “If you two hadn’t worked through whatever it is you’ve been doing today, I don’t know what I’d have done with myself.” Annette launches herself at her instantly with a congratulatory cheer, and she laughs as she stumbles a little. “Annie!”

Dimitri can’t help but laugh as well. “Well, there’s no need to worry there, Mercedes.”

“Indeed,” Dedue murmurs, kissing the crown of Dimitri’s head softly.

“I think there’s  _ plenty  _ to worry about,” Felix interjects, rolling his eyes. “You two are going to be insufferable.”

“Just like you and Sylvain?” Dedue points out calmly. Felix splutters, face going red.

“I- that’s not-”

“Absolutely!” Sylvain grins, planting a kiss on Felix’s cheek and wheezing when he gets an elbow in the ribs for it.

“I really will break up with you.”

“Love you too!”

Dimitri turns away from them, laughing, and leans his head against Dedue’s shoulder. He doesn’t need to say anything; the contact communicates enough.

He can’t wait till the awards ceremony is over.

He doesn’t have to wait long; since both the epee events have wrapped up the finals strip is free, and the loudspeaker calls the top eight men’s epee finalists to the strip. He, Dedue, and Sylvain step forward while the rest of the Blue Lions hang back, Mercedes pulling out her phone to take pictures. He squeezes Dedue’s hand before he steps up to receive his silver, heart so, so warm as Dedue follows him a moment later.

He looks good in gold, Dimitri decides.

They wait on the podium for pictures, Mercedes smiling like a proud mother as she lifts her phone- probably going to send photos to Coach Byleth, he thinks. He sneaks a hand around to the small of Dedue’s back, grinning when Dedue leans into the touch. He doesn’t want to break contact with him, even for a second, doesn’t think he  _ can,  _ anymore- it’s like he’s been missing a piece of himself, his whole life, and it’s only when he’s touching Dedue that he can feel  _ whole. _

Mercedes makes him pose for a team shot with Dedue and Sylvain after the rest of the finalists shuffle off the podium, and then finally,  _ finally,  _ Dimitri is free to take Dedue’s hand and tug him forwards, closer, closer to him.

For a moment, he just pauses, content to  _ look  _ at him, to drink in  _ Dedue,  _ radiant even after the day’s exhaustion. Really, it’s only been a few hours since the event started, only a few hours since they began their dance in earnest… but here they are now.

Dedue’s eyes track over his face, expression gentle, and Dimitri wants to kiss him  _ so  _ badly-

And he  _ can. _

So he does.

His hands twist in the medal around Dedue’s neck, pulling him in, and Dedue goes willingly, his hands finding their place at Dimitri’s waist, gentle and grounding and he’s  _ home. _

They part slowly, Dimitri stretching up to rest their foreheads together. “You were fantastic today,” he breathes, a little giddy now that it’s  _ hitting _ him- that after all this time, he and Dedue are finally  _ here. _

He  _ loves  _ him.

And Dedue loves him, too.

He kisses him again, and this one is longer, even as he can hear Annette and Sylvain laugh, can hear Felix sigh in exasperation, can hear Ashe and Mercedes cooing-

Above all of them, he can feel Dedue’s heart, pounding in time with his, and it’s all that matters. It’s all the victory he needs, fencing be damned.

After Mercedes and Annette get their medals as well, they say their goodbyes- most of them have to make it back to finish assignments before classes on Monday, grabbing their bags and making their way out of the venue as quickly as possible.

Dimitri and Dedue linger, though- they get their bags together slowly, unhurried. He knows neither of them have classes tomorrow; it feels like they have all the time in the world. He takes Dedue’s hand, tangling their fingers together, as they walk out- Dedue holds the door for him, and Dimitri thinks for a moment he might cry.

“I  _ love  _ you,” he says instead, and kisses Dedue’s cheek before he can even return it.

After they make it to Dedue’s car, shoving their bags in the back, Dimitri pauses a moment, pulling him into a lingering kiss. “Do you want to get dinner before we go?” he asks when they pull back.

Dedue laughs. “Dimitri, it’s only four.”

God- it feels later, feels like this has lasted years rather than hours. In a way, he supposes, it has. “Still! I want- I want to spend time with you.”

He glances away, looking back when Dedue cups his face. “Dimitri… you have me. Anytime, anywhere… know that.”

Dimitri swallows hard. His throat feels too tight. “I…”

He settles for kissing him again.

They do end up going out to dinner, early as it is; they manage to find a little cafe in the town near the venue, and it’s cute, cozy. The fact that it’s a  _ date  _ strikes Dimitri hard, and for a moment he loses track of their conversation- Dedue has been telling him about a recipe he’s been meaning to try, but suddenly he can’t possibly pay attention.

He’s on a  _ date.  _ With  _ Dedue. _

Dedue pauses mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow. “... Dimitri?”

“I- I apologize. I just…” he stumbles over his words, aware he’s flushing. “I’m just. Really glad. To be here with you right now.”

Dedue smiles that fond smile that Dimitri realizes with a thrill seems to be reserved for  _ him.  _ “I feel the same.” He reaches across the table and takes Dimitri’s hand, bringing it to his lips. Dimitri’s breath catches. “I love you.”

And Dimitri can’t help himself, can’t help but lean over the table and kiss Dedue once more- because he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, because he can’t imagine not doing so for the rest of his life, because Dedue is the sun and  _ damn  _ if Dimitri isn’t Icarus, damn if he won’t do whatever it takes to get close to him.

“Come back home with me?” he breathes against Dedue’s lips the moment he pulls away. Dedue laughs, sweet and low, and Dimitri is drunk on the sound, drunk on  _ him. _

“On the first date?” he asks, lips quirking into a teasing grin, and  _ god,  _ Dimitri loves Dedue’s quiet humor. He loves  _ him,  _ so much it’s consuming, so,  _ so  _ much he wants to shout it to everyone in the cafe-

“You know what I mean,” he says instead, sighing against Dedue’s lips when he kisses him again.

“I do,” Dedue concedes, and Dimitri’s heart is so, so light.

“Is that a yes?”

Dedue smiles. “I think you know that it is. It always is.”

He does know.

He kisses him again, thrumming with the promise of the future, the promise of the new season laid out in front of them, and even more so the promise of right here, right now, with Dedue right here with him, with the both of them victors in their own right-

It’s perfect.

So are they.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they held hands for the entire car ride home..... and kissed some more. thank u for ur time
> 
> im crytypin 24/7 abt these two on tweeter... @ylissebian..... goodnight


End file.
